The setting sun quits the day at around 4pm in the far northwest highlands in late November. The grip of tawny autumn slips.
Quiet nights become wild nights! Winter’s seduction is a time of firelight, flickering candles and snuggling as we ride together through the close of this year into the next.
Even on driechest days in the northwest highlands, there is magic.
Driech, among Scotland’s favourite words and meaning exactly what Scottish weather is supposed to do on still and grey and drizzly and rather weirdly dankly magical days!
Pronounced like Greek!
On this particularly magnificent driech day, I encountered four wild swans, perhaps Whoopers, perhaps Bewicks. I am no expert!
The hill rang out to their call and wingbeat and I felt blessed to have chanced upon these beautiful migrant visitors.
Here’s my mini movie of the moments, just 21 seconds long!
When the sea is silky rich with the reflections, and the CalMac ferry boat glides into Ullapool on Loch Broom in the northwest highlands. A favourite sight, just beautiful!